


The Wicked Bench III

by overholt_eightyfive



Category: gonewildaudio - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28155498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overholt_eightyfive/pseuds/overholt_eightyfive
Summary: [F4M] [Script Offer] The Wicked Bench III [FDom][cruelty] [outright mean] [Mistress] [puppy] [cucking threats] [emotional manipulation] [intense sadism] [bamboo switch] [dirty talk] [blowjobs] [cunnilingus] [l-bombs] [aftercare] [slow burn]SYNOPSIS: In a state of emotional panic after the conclusion of “The Wicked Bench II,” our heroine makes the choice to lay an emotionally devastating trap for her lover to chase him away. Better now than later, when she'd really break him, right?





	The Wicked Bench III

**Author's Note:**

> PERFORMANCE NOTES: Oh, this is... a doozy, honestly. In the beginning, this is a long con: she's cool to the point of cold. There are places to dig deep into his insecurities and she is BURROWING. She WANTS him to lose his shit and break things off with her. She WANTS him to hate her. This place of emotional manipulation should be seen as an old pair of shoes that isn't fitting right anymore. When the turn happens, she is laying her cards out on the table: her own insecurities, her own sins, her own struggles to be better. When they're finally on that wicked bench again, he allows her to truly be herself. 
> 
> Happiness ensues. 
> 
> As for him: from the beginning, he wants to have a genuine conversation but finds her machinations unsettling and disturbing at first – until he sees through them. When she reveals what her original plan was, he would be a FOOL if he wasn't horrified at first. He's not a fool. But, he's drawn to her, like... an idiot, doused in gasoline, dancing around a bonfire. He hopes he won't burn. Her danger is fresh and foreign and as intoxicating as the rest of her. But, he is making CHOICES to stay. Choices that have more to do with his own shit than his own love, adoration or fear of her. 
> 
> She MUST see that. If he was just weak-willed, she would've discarded him ages ago. He proves himself to be the best kind of sub for her. He says it best: “I'm your puppy. But, I'm not your bitch.” 
> 
> Author's Note: This is not for the faint of heart, or even a conventional “Dom/sub” scene. What started as a fun little scenario with a cute hook of the bench evolved into what's become more of an emotionally intense drama. This is an exploration of incredibly dark themes involving destructive sexual dominance and manipulation. The scenario of cuckolding that was ALMOST initiated is morally repugnant. And, it's also an exploration of what danger and toxicity can look like taken to some logical extremes.  
> But, the actual Dom/sub play, I feel, becomes genuinely cathartic as these two characters share something so deeply intense and emotionally bonding. As close to a happy ending as I can bring myself to write.  
> I hope you enjoy.

\--- START ---

(As we all know: footsteps from down a hallway. Then, laughter heard through a door: her. Then, we ALSO hear a man's laughter as well. Footsteps continue. A knock on the door. Door swings open.)

Hey, babe. You're a little... earlier than expected. 

No, no – Charlie was just leaving. (to Charlie, laughing:) I'm glad I could help you with that. You do look so yummy in your new suit. Ok. Bye. (A kiss to Charlie's cheek. Shuffling. Charlie presumably leaves.)

Come on in. (Hesitation. Then, footsteps enter. Door is closed.)

Are these flowers for me? Oh, thank you. Thank you so much. You're so kind. 

Here, you can put them on the bench. In the living room. Yes. Thank you.

Can I get you anything? 

Oh, yes. That... (giggles) The wicked bench. It's still out, huh. I guess... I kept forgetting to put it away. No matter - 

(beat. A little laugh.) Yes. Yes, Charlie's suit was... very nice. I mean, yours was nice. But, you know. He's got a bigger... budget. 

(Coldly) Yes, I would imagine * he * doesn't have to wait for sales at... department stores.

(Innocently) What?

(laughing) Since when were you ever like... this? All testy. 

Yes, you are.

You're being testy. What's wrong, babe? 

Charlie is... a friend. He's sweet. He wanted my opinion on some new cufflinks. And, he was in the neighborhood and dropped by. 

There. See?

Oh. (Disappointed) You know, I never thought you were the jealous type.

You are. At least a little. Come on. You're telling me -

Alright. If you say so.

(Giggles) I gotta say, though, five thousand dollars on garbage looking cufflinks is a tragedy, isn't it? (Recovers breezily) Anyway. Can I offer you something to drink?

Alright. So: what did you want to talk about? 

It's been... two weeks? Wow. Time flies. 

Oh, come on, babe: work picked up. That's all. I just didn't have the time for much of... really, anything. Or anyone. You know. Major projects. Clients. You know. You know how that goes. 

Oh, Charlie was just * today *. After all, today, I just wasn't so busy. I could make time for... whoever.

(laughing. It's cruel.) Punishing you? For what, exactly? I mean, you weren't THAT mean to me. And, if memory serves, I LET you win. In the end. 

Are you still hung up on that? 

I'm not. 

(Disappointment:) I see. Wow. I really didn't expect * this * from you. 

(Condescending) Things got intense, sure. Maybe * we * read too much into things. Which happens, you know. * You're * only human. But, it doesn't look like you can even handle just... coming over to hang out for a little while. Like old times. (smirks) Nice flowers, though. 

(beat. Cold laughter.) The... the fuck did you just say to me? If I've done - what thing would that be, babe?

(Beat. Cold.) No, actually. What usually happens is poor little broken * boys * and little broken girls end up falling in love with me. And, they can't handle their stupid fucking emotions. And, they end up becoming far more trouble than they're worth. Especially when they forget their fucking place.

(Venom) Yes. Some of them come broken. Some of them I break. Which one are you, babe?

(Agreeing, coldly:) You're right. You don't have to put up with this. You don't have to put up with ANY of this. 

(He says to her, “are you this petty all the time, or only when you catch feelings you can't handle?” Spits, tortured:) You think you fucking know me, don't you. You think you've got me all figured out. But, you're finally fucking getting it: walk away. Walk away, right fucking now. You walk out that door, you forget my address, you lose my number. Or...

(Steels herself) ...or, I'm not going to feel anything about what I do to you. Do you understand me, puppy?

(Cold. Cruel.) You know what? I don't care if you don't believe me. I don't.

I don't. 

(He murmurs “you're lying” Spits:) Well, look how pathetic you turned out to be. Look how twisted up you got when the first pretty girl shows some kind of interest. How fucking sad. When will you ever leave high school, you * weird * little shit? Stuck on the sidelines of the school dance, watching everyone else pair up and you're stuck, utterly alone. And unworthy. And unloved. Maybe they're * right *. You fucking - 

(She growls, ready to go in for the kill. But... the look in his eyes, maybe. The weight of what she's done and is doing. The venom drains from her voice. All that's left is shock:) Fuck. Fuck me. 

(Horrified) I didn't mean that. Oh, Christ. I didn't. I didn't. I swear. 

I just... 

I just need you to hate me.

(the game is dropped. A desperate kind of honesty.) I know what to say. Oh God. For you, I know what to say. And, do. You have to believe me, it's just... pressure points. I can see them. You're... you never deserved that. You didn't. You didn't deserve that then, and you don't deserve this, now. 

Please, I - 

(Quietly, compassionately:) I'm going to fuck you up, puppy. Worse than this. Because, I'M fucked up. This is all I know. You gotta get outta here. Away from me. 

(Deep breath. Shuddering. But, this is her last play to save him from her:) No, no – you don't. Understand. I... I * was * going to fuck Charlie.

I was going to suck him off right before you showed up. You'd see him at the door, adjusting his clothes. And, my hair would still be a mess. You'd suspect it. Hell, you'd SMELL it.

I'd kiss you with his cum still in my mouth. His smell still on my skin. I'd kiss you right in front of him, too. 

Angle it, so you'd see him smirk.

You'd be suspicious and I'd spend the night gaslighting you. And, I'd fuck you. And mock you, in small ways at first. Then, I'd start getting... nasty. I'd start spitting in your mouth on some flimsy excuse, and ask you every time how it tastes. 

I'd make you tell me it tastes good. Make you thank me for it.

Because, you'd do it because I would tell you it would please me. (self-mocking) My * puppy * wants to please his * Mistress *, after all.

(quietly) And when I had my fill of that game, I'd tell you what I did. I'd tell you that sucking Charlie off was more pleasurable than anything you've ever done for me. That I sucked him off and you've been enjoying the taste of his cum – and it tasted * good *, right?

You said so, * right*? 

And, I'd hold you after you wretched and sobbed. And, I'd ask you, very nicely, to leave, because Charlie was coming back to finish me off in * ways you never could. *

And, I'd tell you to clean up the mess you made before you left.

(Long beat.) Don't think I haven't done shit like that before. Because, I have. 

And, Charlie? (dark laugh, open loathing and condescension) He's been wanting me since he met me and I know how much he thought he was going to get me tonight. He's still thinking that. Right now. As he goes home to his * wife *. He's going to fuck her and think of me.

(beat. Barely contained rage.) And, I would * ruin * him. Properly. Utterly and completely. Leave his life in ashes, drive him to the edge and laugh him the rest of the way off.

(Intensely. Angrily:)...Because I would make him * pay * for smirking at * you *... (dissolves into heartbreak) the way I know he would... if I'd kissed you in front of him.

(A beat. Then, quiet, tortured frustration) I thought I wasn't this person anymore. You know? I went to... (exasperated laugh) therapy. Lots of it. Tried figuring out... why I am, the way that I am. Tried figuring out how I could be better. I... I became mindful of my words. And my actions. Set up rules. Boundaries. I tried making... amends, when I could. Accepted the damage I did when I couldn't. (soft laugh) Got into fucking * yoga.* 

I really fucking tried. 

I'm really fucking trying. And, I thought I was * good *, you know? I thought I was better. Thought I was... healthier. Maybe even... healthy.

Then you come along.

You make me lose control. I can't stand that. I can't fucking stand that.

But, I don't want to break you. And, all I know is how to break. 

I told you, puppy. I wasn't lying to you then, and I'm not lying to you, now: I'm fucking cruel. There are some people who will see a bird in a garden and admire its song. And, I... think about what it would sound like as I squeezed its life away.

That's who I am. That's what I am. 

(Angry, questioning:) And, if you're still here, why should I have any mercy for you? Any sympathy? 

(Beat. Surprise. ) Why didn't I... why didn't I fuck Charlie? (she laughs, darkly) For one thing, he's fucking insufferable. Jesus. He's the one that kept on and on about the suit. And the cufflinks. As if that shit impresses me.

(quietly) And, maybe I want you to hate me, but I don't want to... I don't want to destroy you in the process. 

(Honest, sad:) And, I'm selfish, ok? I don't want you to go. I really don't. Ok? You should. Because, I'm trying to be a better person. And, that means not... breaking * good * people. 

A good person. 

My... my * favorite * person. 

But, sometimes, I... I fantasize about hurting you to see what you'll take from me. 

I wonder what scars you'd bear for me. What limits I could break. What power over you I can have to push you to be a better man. 

For me. 

Or a monster.

For me. 

(Darkly, thickly:) I want to revel in your suffering like warmth from a hearth on a cold winter's night.

(Struggling to keep it together:) And, I want to cuddle my puppy close to me and whisper in his ear...that he's my good boy. My best boy. 

And, that I can truly be a terror to everyone else that came before him, but... for Sir... for Sir: this slut * is * his good girl. His best girl. 

(The real struggle, 'cause she can't even bring herself to say “I love you” outloud:) And, that she * loves * him. That she loves him. For all that he lets her do to him. And all that he does for her. That she truly loves him and she can learn to have his happiness and joy fill her up more than his pain and his suffering.

(She gathers herself. Takes a moment. Regards him.) I realize, I haven't... taken any real responsibility. For myself. Or my emotions. And, I'm pushing that on to you. I made you a promise that last time. That I was going to take care of you. And, I failed, because I failed to take care of * myself * in the process. 

I got scared. And, I lashed out. (little self-deprecating laugh) And, I was going to destroy three – (thinks about it: him, Charlie, the wife...anyone else? Shrugs, continues:) three lives in the process. (Pauses.) Four. Maybe four.

I know you're not saying this, but: you can't fix me. You can't begin to. It's not your job and it's not your responsibility. It's mine. It's my journey and my struggle, and no one else's. (firmly) I want to be a better person. For me. 

(Self-realization:) I think... I freaked out because I thought to myself, maybe I can be a better person... for you. 

(Beat. Surprise.) Why's the bench still there - that... that wasn't exactly a lie. I hated driving you away. I hated it so much, I kept that bench out to... to mock me. To punish myself. 

(Sardonically) I mean, I also thought about just using it as a coffee table, but - 

Wait. Waitasecond. What're you - 

I mean. Yes. * I * trust * you *. It's * myself * that's the problem. 

Fine. Yes, ask.

(Surprise. Stunned silence a beat. Then:) The... meanest... tool? Uh. Ummm. I. Have always. Had a fondness. For my bamboo switch. (Swallows. Hard.) What're you asking - 

You're... you're out of your fucking mind.

Do you know what you're asking for. No, no: look at me. * Look at me.* Do you know. What you're asking me. To do to you.

(Pause) Ok. Ok, I'll say it. (quietly) You * want * me... to hurt you. To show that I... am in control. 

(Quickly) Yes, yes, of course! Yes, ground rules! I can work within those.

(Listening) Gotcha. Nothing on the face. Nothing on your testicles, your penis. Everything else is fair play. 

(A moment, as she genuinely questions if she's manipulated the situation to get... here. But, he's resolute. Shaking out his shoulders. Rolling his neck. Like he's preparing for a fight. He does want this, genuinely. So does she.) I want to know how much you can take, too, puppy. But, don't do this for me - 

Ok. I understand. You're doing this for yourself. (Desperately, she wants this so bad to be true:) You don't have to do this, babe. You don't - 

(And, he kisses her. It's deep and passionate. Breathtaking. Her voice is thick with edge and burning need:) Take off your clothes. * Now. * I'm going to get the switch. When I get back, that wicked bench better be prepared. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?

Good puppy. Get to it.

(Footsteps, shuffling of furniture, etc. And, they're ready. SWISH. SWISH. A note of anger.) Puppy. Didn't I say take off your clothes? Then, why the * fuck * do you still have your underwear on?

(Sadistic laugh) Oh, you wanted to give me the honor of taking them off? 

(Quietly, sweetly:) No. My sweet little puppy: you wanted to give me an excuse. To punish you. Turn your back to me. Kneel. In front of the bench. Hold on to it.

(The switch begins a gentle, gentle tapping against flesh.) Always keep in mind: I don't * need * an excuse to punish you. (The first stinging SWAT lands. Oh, hardly a 4. Just to start waking them up.) But, now, here we are. 

(She begins to taptaptaptaptapTAP against him as she speaks. Both warming up her wrist, letting him start to feel the tease and potential bite against his flesh) Do you know why this is my favorite to use, puppy? It's all sting. And bite. It's mean. So utterly mean.

(taptaptapTHWACK. She breathes in deeply as he squirms.) Yes, puppy. Breathe. Yes. And - 

(tapTHWACK) – that was a bit harder, wasn't it?

(taptaptaptaptaptapTHWACK!) - oh. Oh, yes. Already. The first scream. (She swallows. Feels the monster rattling the cage.) You welt... so deliciously, puppy. Yes.

I love the way you shudder against my fingernail, trailing right underneath this welt...

(Quietly, thickly:) Are you sure this is what you want?

I need to hear you say it.

(A moment, then: THWACK!) Tell me you want this.

(THWACK!) Yes. Hold on to that bench for dear life. Tell me.

(THWACK) Tell me you'll suffer for your Mistress.

(THWACK) Tell me you love to give her your pain.

(THWACK) Tell me.

(THWACK) Tell me you love it.

(THWACK) ...Again.

(A beat. THWACK!) Again.

(THWACK!) AGAIN.

(The HARDEST THWACK!! He's outright rolling now, tears. And, she's close to her own, for different reasons:) Say it. Say it one more time, puppy.

(intensely)...Please. Through your gasps. And your tears. My lovely puppy. Let me hug you from behind. Let me feel the heat of your back and your welts against my skin. Let me bury my face against your neck. Let the salt of my skin rub into your wounds. 

No, don't move away from me. Sink back into me. Let me hold you. Do it for me, puppy.

(Approvingly, lovingly) I love the way you moan for me. The way you suffer.

For me.

(Whispering. Possessively.) My good puppy. My sweet puppy. You will take this for me, won't you? You'll take so much for me. 

(She takes in a deep, shuddering breath – and, then she laughs and it's so genuine and real that she drops character for a moment.) Yes. You're right. You're my puppy. But, not my bitch.

(Whispering, vulnerable) ...Thank you. I think – no. Just, thank you. (She sniffles, a few tears spilling. She laughs through that, wiping them away quickly) No, I'm * not * crying. That's just sweat. (Genuinely playful:) Don't you * dare * question your Mistress! There's no laughing at her!

(Clears her throat. Slips back into Domme voice, but... there's still a smile:) That's enough of that. 

Come, puppy. Lay down. On your back. On the bench. 

I don't remember telling you to take your time. Down. 

Now. 

Yes. Yes, whimper for me. I know that moving your arms must be absolute agony now. And, your back against that rough wood...

It's ok. I know how to get your mind off of the pain: you just need something else to concentrate on.

I'm going to straddle your face now. 

Oh, no. I was never wearing any underwear under my dress. Heh. Let me hike it up and - 

I'm going to press down against your chest, and your stomach. And, yes: to steady myself. But, to press you down. 

Look up. Look up at my wet, aching cunt. This is your reward. This is what you to do to me, puppy.

Isn't your suffering worth it?

Louder.

(Laughs) Yes, puppy. It * would * please me if I smothered your face. Because, I'm going to hurt you some more. And, you will not stop eating my pussy.

(Softly:) But, if gets to be too much, tap my thigh twice. Ok? 

(Growling laughter) Oh, shut the * fuck * up, I am * not * going soft on you. You know what? * Here. * (She presses down against him. And, they're both laughing, then she shudders and moans) That's it. That's * it. * 

Fuck, puppy. Yes. Use that fucking tongue. It's been too long. It's been way too long. * Fuck. *

(Whispers as he goes to town.) I thought about you. Every day. And every night. Do you know that? Do you know much your Mistress missed your firm touches. Your eager mouth. Your swollen cock.

Let me draaaag my nails up your torso. Digging into your flesh. 

Yes. Shudder into me, puppy. 

Oh, look at the welts that I'm raising already. So beautiful. My puppy'll be covered in my marks. I wonder how long it will take for them to heal.

Will you let me keep you in this sweet agony? 

Look: your cock. Drooling through your underwear. That wet spot... is impressive.

Let's free it from this underwear. There: do you like how I jerk you off? The firm grip of my hand around your shaft? 

Don't. Fucking. Stop. No matter... what I do. Don't you fucking stop.

(Ad lib: she begins to suck his cock, wetly, hungrily, a masterclass in how Domination can be done by giving head as much as receiving it. And, when it's time:) Your Mistress needs this greedy cock inside of her. 

(Ad lib: her riding him. All that needs to be said during this as they drive to orgasm:) Look at me. Look at all of me. You're mine, now. I mean it, puppy. Mine. All of you. And... (quietly, almost reluctantly) ...I'm yours. (Ad lib away to mutual orgasms, HOORAH!)

(Breathy, deep come-down. Soft, gentle kisses. A little groan and giggle.) Oh. * Fuck * . I gotta move, now? Ugh. 

Oh, Jesus – right. You must be in * agony *, babe. Come on. I've got some cream that will help.

No, it won't sting. I'm cruel, but I'm not... fucking * evil *. 

(genuine concern) I... I really went to town on you, didn't I. Are you... are you ok? Yes, please – sit up. Come on, babe. I'll be gentle. (She gives soft kisses to his face. They melt together.) I can be gentle for a while.

(whispers, soft and low) Is it ok if I just... hold you? And stroke your hair for a little bit? You make me so happy. Happier than... anyone. I meant it. I meant every word I said earlier: you're my favorite person. You're * my * person. My big tough puppy. You - 

(Beat. Listens. Agrees:) Ok. * This * is where I'll hurt you. On this bench. When I need to. When I need it. Agreed. 

(Beat. Little laugh.) ...and, no wrecking lives. Fine. (Darkly. Seriously:) At least... not yours. (soft kisses. Realization:) Hey, where... where did you put those flowers? Oh, alright. Good. I really do appreciate them. (genuinely) Thank you, babe. It was very thoughtful of you. 

Hey: do you... would you like to spend the night? Give me a chance to properly take care of you? 

I think we can... put the wicked bench away. For a little while, at least.

(Giggles) We can find other excuses for you to wear those suits.

(Softly, happily:) And, yes: I love you, too.

\---END---


End file.
